


The Imperfect Feminist Education of Daphne Greengrass

by hmweasley



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Childhood, F/F, Feminist Themes, Growing Up, Homophobia, Lesbian Character, Lesbian Daphne Greengrass, Self-Discovery, Sexism, Sister-Sister Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:34:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23924713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hmweasley/pseuds/hmweasley
Summary: The road to self-actualization is a long one. That's never more true than when you're a lesbian born into a traditional pureblood family. But Daphne's going to figure it out.
Relationships: Astoria Greengrass & Daphne Greengrass, Daphne Greengrass & Pansy Parkinson, Daphne Greengrass/Original Female Character(s), Susan Bones/Daphne Greengrass
Comments: 3
Kudos: 17





	1. Childhood

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me on [Tumblr](http://madetofly.tumblr.com) if you'd like.

Daphne’s favourite storybook was, without a doubt, Orin the Auror. She’d had the book for as long as she could remember, and though she couldn’t read it on her own yet, the pictures were enough to keep her occupied when her parents didn’t have time to read to her. She’d flipped through the entire series so often that the pages had been magically repaired three times after coming free from the binding.

Orin did exciting things that Daphne could only dream of. He dueled would-be thieves in front of Gringotts. He observed people on the street until he could recite their entire life’s story for the smallest of clues. He even protected Hogwarts when Headmaster Henry wasn’t strong enough to do so himself.

Yes, Orin the Auror was Daphne’s hero. It didn’t matter whether he was real or not. It never occurred to her to consider such things anyway. He was real enough inside her heart and her imagination, and all she wanted was to be like him when she was older.

“I’m going to be an Auror,” she announced to her uncle one day, her chest puffing out with the declaration.

The newest Orin book was clutched in her hands, and her uncle eyed it distastefully as he observed her. Daphne’s grin didn’t fall until he spoke.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he drawled, emphasizing the words with a roll of his eyes. “No proper Greengrass woman can become an Auror.”

A lead weight settled in the pit of Daphne’s stomach. It was true that Orin and many of his fellow Aurors were men, but there were a couple of women who fought alongside him, even if none of them were named. It had never occurred to Daphne that she wouldn’t be welcome in the profession.

“Why?” she asked, her voice quivering.

She clutched onto the arm of her uncle’s chair and waited for his answer with baited breath, but when his answer came, it lacked the clarity Daphne had been hoping for.

“It’s men’s work,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “You’ll understand when you’re older. No use worrying about it now. Just run along and play with your toys.”

“But—”

Her mother cut her off with simply her name.

Daphne turned to her, shoulders drooping at the stern look on her mother’s face.

“Go play with your sister,” Mrs. Greengrass said, motioning at the blanket where baby Astoria was sitting with a wooden block in her mouth.

Daphne did as she was told, flopping herself down in a huff next to the baby, whose eyes tracked her as her mouth continued to work on the block. Daphne didn’t pay Astoria any attention as her gaze fell to the book in her lap. She blinked as tears stung at her eyes.

Orin the Auror’s face smiled up at her, oblivious to her uncle’s words.

* * *

Whether or not Daphne would understand when she was older remained a mystery for years to come. Within months of her uncle’s words, she forgot all about them. She discovered that there were countless mysteries in the world aside from whether or not she would become an Auror and solving those mysteries came to take up a good amount of her time.

Daphne’s cousin Krista was several years older than Daphne and lived in the United States. Though Daphne had only met her a few times, Krista could do no wrong in her eyes. She was the coolest person in the world. Possibly even cooler than Orin the Auror.

When Krista spoke, her odd American accent captured Daphne’s full attention.

“I can’t wait to get married,” Krista said, falling back against the pillows of Daphne’s bed.

Daphne scowled at the older girl. Krista had just started school at Ilvermorny the previous autumn, and though Daphne’s parents insisted that Ilvermorny couldn’t provide as good of an education as Hogwarts, Daphne was fascinated by every story Krista had about the place.

Her cousin had changed since the last time Daphne had seen her, even if the previous visit was already foggy in Daphne’s young memory. Marriage was only one of the subjects Krista wanted to discuss despite never mentioning it before, but it was by far the most distressing.

“Why?” Daphne whined, throwing herself onto the bed beside her cousin and pressing her face into a pillow. “The only thing married people do is yell at each other.”

Krista laughed and patted Daphne on the head.

“They only do that sometimes,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “I mean that I want to be really married, like people are when they’re in love. Not married like that.”

Daphne had no idea what Krista meant. Every married couple she met seemed more or less the same, but despite being confused, she scowled at her cousin. Krista didn’t notice. Her dreamy gaze was focused on something beyond the walls of Daphne’s room.

“There’s a boy named Leon at school,” she whispered. “I’m in love with him, but you can’t tell anyone. It’s a secret.”

She pressed her finger against her lips.

Daphne nodded furiously. Despite her own feelings about marriage, she would never break Krista’s confidence.

“Is he your boyfriend?” she asked, unable to keep her voice from scrunching up with the question.

Krista laughed, her cheeks turning pink as she buried her face in a pillow. Her words were muffled.

“No,” she admitted. “I haven’t told him that I like him yet. But we’re meant for each other. All my friends agree.”

She peeked up from the pillow as if expecting Daphne to agree as well, but Daphne stayed silent. She didn’t know this Leon. How was she to know whether he and Krista were meant for each other? Still, she was doubtful about the whole thing.

“I don’t get it,” she said, flipping onto her back and staring at the ceiling. “Why would you want a boy around all the time? They’re annoying.”

Krista laughed and patted Daphne’s hand, her giggles increasing when Daphne swatted at her.

“You’ll understand in the future,” she promised, not the least bit concerned by Daphne’s glare.

* * *

A few years later, Krista also became the person to shed light on the mystery of how babies are made to Daphne, who gasped in horror throughout the explanation.

Krista had never seen or done any of what she was explaining for herself of course. She was a respectable witch. But her friends had passed on the important details that they’d gleaned from their own sources, and Krista was determined to do the same for Daphne.

“And then: baby,” Krista concluded, waving her hands through the air.

Daphne stared at her in horror, her mouth hanging open. Even at nine, she was grateful that Astoria was down for a nap. She couldn’t imagine her baby sister listening to a horror story like the one she’d just heard.

“Why would anyone do that?” she asked, throwing her arms over her head.

Krista shrugged.

“Jamie says it feels good. Adults like it. She also said sometimes you bleed, but that’s only the first time.”

“No, no, no!” Daphne chanted, pressing her hands over her face to hide from reality. “I don’t like it. I don’t like it at all!”

“Relax,” Krista said with a laugh. “You’re still little. You’ll understand when you’re older.”

Daphne peeked at her cousin through her fingers. She didn’t know how Krista could understand it considering she’d never done it either, but of course, her big cousin understood everything even when it didn’t make sense to Daphne.

“Well, I’m never doing that,” Daphne declared.

“You have to do it, Daphne,” Krista said, reaching out to pat her on the head. “It’s the only way to have a baby.”

The whole story had to be a lie. There was no way any babies would have existed ever if what Krista said was true. Daphne narrowed her eyes, wondering if there were parts of the story Krista hadn’t told her.

“Then I’m never having a baby,” Daphne said, crossing her arms against her chest.

She’d never been as interested in dolls as Astoria anyway. Having babies wasn’t something she had bothered to think about much before, and after hearing what Krista had to say, it sounded utterly repulsive.

Krista shrugged and slumped until her arm was pressed against Daphne’s. She stared into space as she considered the idea herself.

“I don’t think it’s too bad,” she said, even as her voice revealed a bit of unease. “You’ll probably change your mind.”

Daphne scowled back.

* * *

Once she got to Hogwarts, Daphne listened to the girls in her dormitory talk about boys constantly while wondering how many of them had the same information that she did. She didn’t dare ask. That would mean having to talk about it, and if anything, she was less enthusiastic about the idea of doing something with a boy than she had been at nine. That wasn’t something that bothered her too much though; she hardly thought about it at all.

It wasn’t until late in her second year that she started having realizations that worried her more than her disinterest in boys.

Her friendships with the girls in her dormitory were largely friendships of convenience. They were each girls of good social standing, and they were right there. It was natural that Daphne would stick with them even when they bored her to death with their talk of boys this and boys that.

They were convenient to have a round, and sometimes they were even interesting. But Daphne couldn’t have prepared herself for the first time Pansy stripped off her robes in their dormitory and Daphne felt things she hadn’t before.

She turned away the second the feeling came over her, determined to stifle it and bury it down deep. There were no words in her vocabulary to describe what she felt, though it scared her how well it matched things the other girls had said to her before when talking about boys. She’d never been able to understand them before.

The years that followed were torture as Daphne struggled to avoid her own dormitory as much as possible. She did all of her own dressing in the toilet, much to her roommates’ amusement.

Their friendships grew ever more strained as Pansy and the others questioned her about her odd behavior, but they could think whatever they wanted. Daphne would never share the truth.

* * *

Millicent was the only friend who stayed loyal to Daphne as the years passed, and for that, Daphne was grateful. The other girls in her year were polite, of course, as befitted Daphne’s status as a pureblood in good social standing, but their relationship was little more than politeness. Millicent was the only person who Daphne was comfortable around, and she regretted that at least part of that was because Millicent didn’t stir the uncomfortable butterflies Daphne sometimes got around the other girls.

What Millicent didn’t know couldn’t hurt her, though, so Daphne kept her close.

She wasn’t sure when it happened exactly. Maybe it was after Pansy made a thinly veiled comment about Millicent’s appearance. Maybe Daphne had just been feeling particularly frustrated by her own repressed feelings one day.

Whatever had prompted it, poking fun at their roommates became Daphne and Millicent’s thing.

Pansy was the easiest target. By the time they were in their fifth year, her obsession with keeping Draco’s attention was too desperate to be ignored. Daphne loathed it for a million reasons, not least of which was the fact that plenty of other people would have slathered Pansy with attention if she’d give up on Draco. There was no reason he deserved Pansy’s undying loyalty when he didn’t return her affection in kind.

Daphne didn’t think that much of her behavior. Comments that Pansy didn’t hear couldn’t hurt her. So, when Daphne entered their dormitory to find Pansy sobbing into her pillow, she thought the tears must be Draco’s fault.

“What did he do this time?” Daphne asked as she headed for her trunk.

She’d only come back to the dormitory to retrieve a new bottle of ink, but she knew that Pansy wouldn’t let her leave without ranting and raving about whatever had transpired between her and her chosen target. Draco had probably ignored her after they snogged or something. Those were usually the slights that got Pansy riled up.

There was a pause in Pansy’s sniffling, but she didn’t launch into an angry rant like Daphne expected.

Having pulled a bottle of ink out of her trunk, Daphne stood, glancing at Pansy’s bed to find the other girl glaring at her through red-rimmed eyes. Her eyeliner was smeared, leaving her even more of a mess than she would have been from the tears alone.

“He didn’t do anything,” Pansy snapped.

Daphne held her hands up in surrender.

“Okay, okay, sorry,” she said. “It’s always his fault, so sue me for thinking he’d done something again.”

Pansy’s gaze fell to her bedsheets, her shoulders slumping forward. She looked so unlike herself that Daphne couldn’t slip out the door like she’d been determined to do. With a sigh, she sat on the edge of her own bed and prepared herself to listen.

“What happened then?” she asked.

The glare Pansy shot her was half-hearted and ended with her gaze once again falling to her bedsheets.

“Some of the boys were joking that Draco would never date me because I’m too easy,” she admitted quietly.

Daphne shifted on her bed. She’d said the same thing countless times, so she couldn’t assure Pansy the words weren’t true without lying. Draco had never had any intention of dating Pansy; everyone could see that.

“Ignore them,” she said, shaking her head. “They’re stupid boys. What’s their opinion worth?”

Pansy lifted her head slowly, raising one eyebrow at Daphne.

“You say the same thing.”

Daphne froze. She’d been certain that she and Millicent had covered their tracks. When had they messed up? Had Millicent betrayed her confidence? Had Pansy spied on them?

Not sure how to extricate herself from the situation, she chose to say nothing until Pansy shook her head and averted her gaze to a corner of the room.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “Not really. I know everyone thinks it.”

“I’m sorry,” Daphne said, hating the words even as she said them. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Pansy snorted but nodded.

“It’s whatever,” she said.

Daphne mimicked her, nodding for an absurdly long time as she struggled over what to say next. She couldn’t come up with anything and was forced to let them fall into an awkward silence.

She pledged at that moment to never imply anything uncouth about Pansy again.

* * *

Daphne’s pulse reverberated in her ears as she threw everything she could into her magically expanded trunk. She knew that she had time before anything actually happened, but after the night she’d had, she needed to escape as soon as possible, even if it meant accidentally leaving something behind.

“Where are you going to go?”

Daphne froze before turning to find Astoria in the doorway.

“I don’t know,” she said, turning back to her haphazard packing. “Maybe Millicent’s or Pansy’s. Neither one of them live with their parents, so I should be safe with them.”

Astoria fell quiet as she sat down on Daphne’s bed.

A bed that Daphne would miss. She was sure she’d never sleep in it again once she fled the house. Her parents would never allow her back. It was a small price to pay considering the only other option.

“Do you really think marrying Zabini would be that bad?”

Daphne was tempted to ignore Astoria’s question. After all, she couldn’t explain the real reason why the idea of marrying Blaise made her sick to her stomach. The real reason would only make the situation worse than it already was.

“Yes, I do,” she said. “I’m not going to be some perfect pureblood housewife who pops out the required babies and obeys my husband’s every whim like a servant.”

More silence.

Daphne threw the last of her things into her trunk and snapped it shut with a flick of her wand.

“Blaise is a good guy,” Astoria said hesitantly.

“He is,” Daphne said. “But I’m not marrying him just because our parents want me to. I’m not their property to marry off to whoever gives them the best deal.”

Astoria bit her lip, her gaze distant as she considered Daphne’s words for herself.

It was easy for her. Easier than she even realized. She’d fallen for Draco Malfoy, and their families were already preparing for the betrothal. Daphne was happy enough for her that she could hide her jealousy. Astoria would never understand just how good she had it.

“I’ll stay in touch,” Daphne said, hovering in front of her sister. “I don’t know if Mum and Dad will let you read any letters I send, so I’ll send them to your room at night. I hope you’ll write back.”

Astoria’s eyes widened. She shot up from the bed, startling Daphne into taking several steps backward.

“Of course I’ll write back!” Astoria exclaimed.

With a sob, she flung herself at Daphne and wrapped her arms around her in a vice-like grip. Daphne returned the hug, not sure she could find the strength to let go. She couldn’t have if leaving hadn’t been crucial.

Her last glimpse of her sister that night was of a tear-stained face.


	2. Adulthood

Daphne learned about Muggle gay bars on accident. She’d taken to exploring Muggle London because it was easier than going places where people might recognize her. Plus, there was a newness to everything that she found exciting. Muggles had more options for entertainment than she had even realized. Diagon Alley couldn’t begin to complete with the sheer number of stores in just one neighborhood in London.

She’d been learning more about London for several years before she found her first gay bar by simply walking past it and noticing that the atmosphere around the place was different from the others she’d visited. In some strange way, it had called to her almost as if it had been charmed.

She’d noticed the number of same-sex couples around her before she’d even stepped inside, even though she hadn’t quite understood the reason for it. Her heart raced as she watched couples holding hands and even kissing. She’d been light-headed and left soon after.

Over the years, she’d accepted her sexuality, or at least she thought she had. She had yet to share the truth with anyone, but she felt more comfortable about it within herself. If no one else knew, that was only because she knew how they would react. Keeping it to herself was simpler.

But it also meant that she hadn’t even attempted to date since leaving Hogwarts.

If asked, she had a number of excuses up her sleeve: The wizarding world was small, and she already knew most people her age. Dating a Muggle was a disaster waiting to happen. She was busy with her career.

Yet whatever excuses she provided, it didn’t change the reality, and Daphne was becoming increasingly frustrated by that reality. So, ignoring the adrenaline rushing through her veins, she went back to that same bar she had stumbled upon.

She’d finished off one beer and started on a second when she noticed a woman smiling at her from further down the bar, and Daphne tried to smile back without revealing any of her unease. The woman’s auburn hair hung just past her shoulders in large curls. Her eyes were dark in the light of the bar. Daphne’s cheeks flushed, and she turned away.

She saw the woman moving towards her from the corner of her eye and stiffened, her hand tightening around the handle of her drink.

Talking to other women was the reason she’d come in the first place, yet she wanted to run.

“Hi.”

Daphne turned to the woman with a nervous smile.

“Hi,” she echoed.

Up close, she saw that the woman’s eyes were brown with gold flecks that hadn’t been visible from a distance. Daphne could have gotten lost in them if she let herself, but she didn’t. She kept her hands around her beer to keep them from shaking.

“Is it your first time here?” the woman asked, leaning against the bar.

Daphne’s cheeks warmed with the confirmation that her nerves were as obvious as she’d feared they were. After a lifetime of keeping her own feelings at a distance, she didn’t know how to just let herself be.

“Yes?”

Her nerves made her answer lilt upward and sound like a question without her meaning for it to.

The woman laughed, her curls bouncing. Daphne swallowed and willed herself not to look away. If there was one place where she didn’t have to worry about looking, this was it.

“How exciting,” the woman said, taking another step toward Daphne and closing what personal space there’d still been between them.

The fire inside Daphne was unlike anything she had experienced before. Though her mind had run through many fantasies, she hadn’t really expected something like this when she’d arrived at the bar, but she couldn’t pull away from the intoxicating atmosphere between her and the woman.

“I’m Daphne,” she managed to choke out.

The woman laughed and held out a hand. Daphne shook her, trying not to think about how soft the woman’s skin was beneath her fingers.

“Delia,” she said. “And I’ll make you a deal, Daphne. You’re very attractive, and I think you might be interested in me. I came here tonight looking for something fun with no strings attached. I could show you the ropes and get you better acquainted with yourself if you’re up for it.”

She tilted her head to the side, exposing her neck as she waited for Daphne’s answer. Her skin was bronzed, and Daphne had never wanted to kiss someone’s skin as much as she did in that moment. Delia’s hand found her waist, and when Daphne didn’t protest, she went as far as slipping her fingers under the hem of Daphne’s shirt and tracing her skin at the top of her jeans.

Daphne’s brain short-circuited as she nodded frantically.

“That sounds perfect,” she said in a rush.

But Delia wasn’t put off by the clear effect she was having on Daphne, she laughed, and Daphne mourned the loss of her fingers against her skin as she pulled away. A second later, Daphne’s hand was in hers, and she was tugging Daphne off her stool.

“My place isn’t far,” she whispered in Daphne’s ear, making her skin erupt in goose bumps.

Daphne couldn’t speak as she let herself be pulled from the bar on jelly-like legs.

* * *

It wasn’t as if Daphne’s first night with a girl meant everything fell into place and was easy. Feeling comfortable in her own skin took time, but Daphne felt a little better each day.

She began frequenting places where she felt that she could be herself, and she no longer felt nervous when she entered. Instead, their atmosphere was invigorating. At first, it was the only time she felt truly herself.

She had a number of several short-lived attempts at dating before she met Anna, a Muggleborn from America who had moved to London less than a year earlier.

Daphne fell hard and fast. Anna was part of Daphne’s world in a way none of the Muggle girls she’d tried dating before had been, but she was also enough removed from it that Daphne could be with her without worries of things getting complicated or messy with her family or school friends.

While Daphne had become more comfortable in her skin in her new life, she wasn’t yet ready to completely unite new and old. Sometimes, she wondered if she ever would be.

In most ways, what happened between her and Anna felt entirely divorced from her old life. Though a witch who had attended Ilvermorny and currently worked in a shop on Diagon Alley, Anna was entrenched in Muggle society in more ways than Daphne could count.

On their third date, the conversation had drifted towards families. While Daphne had tried to reveal as little as possible about her own, Anna had joked, “My mom’s kind of a hardcore feminist. I hope that doesn’t scare you off.”

Anna had been surprised when Daphne hadn’t known what she was talking about. Apparently feminism was a bigger deal in the American wizarding community than the British one, or at least that was the case in Anna’s group of friends.

Before long, Daphne had learned that it wasn’t just Anna’s mum but Anna herself who was invested in Muggle feminism.

Daphne watched from a distance as Anna posted things on Muggle websites—a kind of technology she didn’t understand no matter how many times Anna explained it—and attended protests. Anna may have joked about scaring her off at the beginning, but Daphne wasn’t scared. At first, she was just baffled about why any of it mattered.

As Anna explained her beliefs more and more, Daphne’s thoughts on the topic shifted. It became difficult to understand why more people didn’t care. Anna gave her new vocabulary and new ways of describing things she had noticed her whole life and just accepted as reality.

She opened up about the arranged marriage her parents had wanted and her childhood dreams of being an Auror, which had been given up long ago. Instead of being scared off like Daphne had feared, Anna was furious on her behalf, and Daphne blossomed upon having her anger justified, getting drawn even farther into the world Anna occupied.

Depending on who you asked, Daphne had become too drawn in, but Daphne would contend that such a judgement was a matter of perspective.

Protests were invigorating, it turned out. Even after years of her family keeping her in a box, Daphne had the perfect personality for confrontation. She loved a good argument, and there was always at least one at the protests she attended. The hardest part was not drawing her wand when certain Muggles made categorically false comments or, at times, threw insults their way.

Yes, Daphne loved protests; she loved them even more than Anna, who viewed them merely as something required to achieve change. Daphne would have happily protested any day of the week. She lived for the high of it.

It was only a matter of time before she organized one herself in the Ministry atrium. Wizarding Britain was behind the times, and she was determined to bring them into the future. There may have been certain parts of her new life that she was unwilling to share with her family, but this wasn’t one of them. It made her feel powerful to know her parents might get wind of her saying such audacious things after she’d refused Blaise Zabini.

If Hermione Granger could advocate for house elf rights without being laughed out of the Ministry, then the same bureaucrats could listen to Daphne talk about the underrepresentation of women within the Ministry’s ranks.

The Aurors clearly didn’t know what to do with the—admittedly small—group of protestors Daphne had gathered around her. They hovered near them in the atrium, hardly glancing away as they ushered other Ministry visitors past as quickly as possible.

“What are you looking at?” Daphne snapped at one Auror in particular who was incapable of looking anywhere but at her. “Am I that interesting?”

The Auror’s face remained unreadable as he continued staring at her, but Anna put a hand on Daphne’s arm and leaned in to whisper in her ear.

“Are you trying to get us arrested? Maybe don’t piss off law enforcement.”

She had a point. Daphne had a habit of doing just that during the Muggle protests they’d attended, but in those situations, she knew that she had magic to protect herself if things got too out of hand. It was just hard to resist when the Aurors were standing there glowering at her like they were.

Before she could respond to Anna, Susan Bones appeared. Daphne’s gaze latched onto her immediately, finding the golden badge pinned to her robes. She’d heard that Bones had made it high up in the Ministry’s Internal Affairs office, mostly likely due to nepotism, but she hadn’t expected to see her.

She smirked as Susan approached, realizing that her protest might have already made bigger waves than she’d realized.

Susan headed straight for her, apparently having realized that Daphne was the head of the operation before she came to speak to them. Daphne was proud of that too, but she held her tongue, only raising one eyebrow at Susan as she came to a stop in front of her.

“Miss Greengrass,” Susan began in a formal tone, “I’ll have to ask you to refrain from inciting the situation. We would like everyone to stay safe today.”

“Of course, ma’am,” Daphne replied in an overly sweet voice. “The last thing I’d want was to anger an important government official such as yourself. I know how hard you work to keep society functioning smoothly and as if it were still in the fifth century.”

Susan stared at her for a long, silent moment. At first, Daphne expected her to walk away without saying anything, but the redhead surprised her.

“Well, some of us work harder than others,” she said tilting her head to the side.

It took a split second for Daphne to process the statement, but once she had, she laughed. Susan smirked, and Daphne forced her expression into something neutral, embarrassed about her lack of control in front of someone she didn’t want to like.

“Yes,” Daphne said, “I can tell that the Aurors work harder than anyone else in this building.”

Susan looked over her shoulder at the Aurors who still stood around the perimeter of the protest. Her expression was unreadable.

“They’re doing what the Minister asked them to do,” she said as she turned back to Daphne. “They’re under strict instructions not to engage with anyone in your group unless someone disturbs the peace.”

“I can assure you that won’t happen, Miss Bones,” Daphne said with a sweet smile. “We don’t want to cause any trouble.”

Susan covered a snort with her hand, but her grin was still visible when she dropped it.

“It’s interesting to see where your life has taken you since Hogwarts,” she said, her eyes analyzing Daphne.

Daphne laughed and shook her head.

“You too,” she said with a roll of her eyes.

She tossed a pointed look at Susan’s badge that made Susan shift her weight to her other foot. She cleared her throat, her gaze not quite meeting Daphne’s.

“I wanted to make a difference,” she said with a shrug.

Daphne was able to quell her laughter for once as she straightened her posture.

“So do I, Miss Bones. It might be that we don’t see eye to eye on how to best do that.”

Susan nodded absentmindedly, her eyes intent on Daphne.

“Perhaps we could discuss that sometime,” she said, brushing her hair behind her shoulder.

Daphne stared back. A Ministry official was trying to flirt with her. She had little doubt that it was flirting too. Her initial lack of experience was long gone, and she would almost have considered herself an expert on how women flirted with each other.

Never in a million years had she expected it to come from a Ministry official though.

She hummed, pretending to mull it over.

“I’m afraid I don’t date people who are part of corrupt systems like the Ministry of Magic,” she said, placing one hand on her hip.

Susan’s smile didn’t wane. If anything, it grew wider. She sighed and nodded.

“I suppose I’ll have to nurse my broken heart then,” she said as she backed away.

“Suppose so,” Daphne called after her. “I hope it’s not too hard for you.”

Susan had turned away from her by then, but the shake of her head was enough to tell Daphne that she’d heard her loud and clear.

Despite her strict personal policy of not dating Ministry employees, she watched the redhead go until she’d disappeared through the crowd, not even caring who noticed for once.

* * *

Sunday brunch with Astoria was the only weekly routine Daphne had that she refused to cancel no matter what the circumstances were. It was the one connection she had to the family who had cut her off after she’d run away.

Brunch was always a happy affair. Daphne carefully avoided any and all topics that she knew would upset Astoria, which meant that the version of her life that Astoria knew was whitewashed to the point of hardly being Daphne’s life at all. But none of that mattered.

Daphne much preferred to keep conversations focused on Astoria’s life. She needed to make sure that their parents weren’t interfering too much and that Astoria was doing what she actually wanted to do, not just following their expectations.

As it turned out, Astoria was much more adept at pushing against their parents rules without estranging herself from them entirely than Daphne had been. Not that Daphne would have said as much out loud, but she was nearly certain that it was because of Astoria’s ongoing relationship with Draco Malfoy, who their parents could find no fault with. As long as Astoria had that relationship, their parents were willing to give her the other freedoms she pushed for, including the freedom to choose a profession among Muggles.

Astoria was also terrible at concealing her emotions, and during one such lunch, Daphne watched her with one eyebrow raised as she pushed her food around on her plate with her fork.

“What’s up?” Daphne asked, leaning her elbows on the table as she fixed Astoria with the kind of look only a sister could give.

Sitting her fork down with a sigh, Astoria seemed to be preparing herself for something.

“Promise you won’t get mad when I tell you?” she asked with a frown.

Daphne shook her head, not in disagreement but in amusement.

“Whatever it is can’t be that bad, Tory. Just give it to me.”

Astoria took one last deep breath before she confessed.

“Draco and I are engaged. We’re going to get married next year.”

Daphne looked at Astoria, whose own eyes were wide as she looked back at her sister. Suddenly, Daphne started laughing.

“You thought that would make me angry?” she asked, brushing a stray tear from her eye.

Astoria opened and closed her mouth several times as she struggled to process what Daphne was thinking. She shrugged defensively.

“Well, when you were meant to marry Zabini, you ran away from it. And I know how you feel about marriage…”

“Astoria,” Daphne interrupted her. She reached out to take her hand. “That’s about me, not you.”

Astoria nodded, but she still didn’t understand judging by the way she was looking at Daphne.

“Do you love him?” Daphne asked, tilting her head to the side.

Astoria gaped at her, trying and failing to speak several times before she finally did so successfully.

“Of course!” she exclaimed. “I love him so much.”

“Then why would I have a problem with it?” she asked, unable to stop herself from smirking. “I didn’t love Blaise; you love Draco. They’re entirely different situations.”

Astoria huffed and shook her head.

“But you hate marriage,” she said. “It’s not just Blaise, Daphne. Everytime it comes up, you go on and on about how marriage is outdated and it’s better for men than women. Excuse me for thinking you wouldn’t exactly be happy for me.”

Daphne stared at Astoria, her palms beginning to shake as she gripped her robes beneath the table. She hadn’t meant to do anything drastic when she’d met Astoria that morning, but she also hadn’t expected Astoria to announce her engagement. Perhaps it was the day for big reveals and getting everything out on the table.

“Astoria, I’m gay.”

The silence between them was deafening. Daphne had long since grown used to saying the words out loud as long as they weren’t to her family or any of her old Hogwarts friends, so she didn’t care about who in the Muggle restaurant overheard them. The only thing she cared about was Astoria’s reaction, and her sister wasn’t giving her much of anything as she stared at her.

“Oh,” was all she said at first.

Daphne nodded, hoping Astoria would add more without her having to speak.

“I wasn’t expecting that,” Astoria admitted, biting at her lip. “I just…”

The two women stared at each other, Daphne fidgeting with her hands in her lap.

“So,” Astoria said slowly. “Those comments you’ve made about marriage being a prison and whatnot…”

“Had everything to do with me, not you,” Daphne finished. “As long as you love Draco, I’m not going to stand in the way of you marrying him or anything. To be honest, that sounds like time I could spend doing something more useful.”

Astoria nodded.

“Does this mean you won’t tease him the next time you see him?” she asked.

Daphne smirked.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Tory.”

Astoria rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t hide her smile.

* * *

Daphne had been shocked when her invitation arrived in the mail. Hermione Granger and Susan Bones had a new initiative for improving the gender balance at the Ministry, and Daphne Greengrass was one of the “important” people they’d decided to invite to a dinner in the initiative’s honor.

She wasn’t sure what she had done other than continue to be a pain in their asses. Over the years, she’d seen Susan a few more times at various protests she helped organize, but the other woman hadn’t spoken to her again, and eventually, she was promoted again and stopped showing up to them at all.

Hermione was someone Daphne knew of from school but had only seen in the newspaper since. She was pretty sure the new Minister for Magic would hardly recognize her name if she saw it on a list of party-goers. So how, exactly, had she been deemed a good person to invite to such a shindig?

She was more than a little baffled, but she was also determined to go. It was the only way she had any chance of figuring it out, and she hated mysteries.

When she arrived, it was to a room far fancier than it needed to be. It was decorated in a similar vein to the rest of the Ministry, which was to say it was ugly and unappealing. Outside the magical window, snow danced in the air, but inside, it was warm enough that none of the women in sleeveless dresses appeared uncomfortable.

There was no one there who Daphne knew. She was well-acquainted with the members of all of the few feminist groups in wizarding Britain, and not a single person from them was there except for her. Every attendee appeared to be from the Ministry itself, and Daphne had no interest in speaking to any of them.

She headed for the snacks, even though there was nothing particularly interesting on the table. It was mostly cheese and crackers, and not even particularly fancy kinds. That didn’t stop her from stuffing several in her mouth in quick succession to give herself something to do as the government officials chatted around her.

“Miss Greengrass.”

Daphne stiffened before turning from the table to find Susan standing in front of her with glass in one hand and a smile on her lips. She looked different in person than she had in recent editions of the newspaper, but it suited her. She looked real.

“Miss Bones,” Daphne said with an uneasy smile. “Thank you for the invitation. I wasn’t expecting it.”

Susan chuckled and nodded.

“Minister Granger and I are making some changes. One of the most important for us was including our most vocal critics in the dialogue.”

Daphne’s cheeks warmed as Susan brushed past her to get some of her own cheese and crackers from the table. For a few moments, it was silent as she chewed.

“What brought on that change?” Daphne asked once it looked like Susan would be capable of answering.

Susan laughed slightly and shook her head in amusement.

“It may be a change for the Ministry, but it’s not really a change for me or Hermione. We’ve been talking about doing this for years. It just takes a while to get things in motion around here.”

Daphne snorted.

“You don’t say.”

Susan shook her head, but it was with a smile.

“I understand why you want to work outside the system,” she said. “But some of us here want change just as much as you do. It’s only that we’ve decided to go about it a different way.”

“By reinforcing existing power structures?”

She gave Susan her most innocent smile, and the redhead was unable to come up with an immediate response as opposed to gaping. A man called Susan’s name from across the room, puncturing their bubble.

Susan sighed.

“It looks like I’m needed, but we should continue this conversation when I’m not working. I’d be interested in hearing more about your opinion. How about coffee on Saturday?”

It could have been a business meeting, but Daphne knew that Susan was asking as Susan, not a Ministry employee. Her personal policy of not dating Ministry employees was still firmly in place, but she couldn’t shake her curiosity about how Susan planned to defend herself against Daphne’s question.

“Sure,” Daphne said with a shrug. “That should be interesting.”

Susan shook her head one last time before disappearing through the crowd. This time, Daphne didn’t watch her go. Instead, she turned towards the refreshment table to hide her burning cheeks.

* * *

Susan’s answer in her defence was an interesting one, even if Daphne thoroughly disagreed with it.

The two of them disagreed on a lot of things, but it turned out that they also agreed on more than Daphne had believed was possible before their coffee date.

And it was a date. That was apparent by the end of it when Daphne hadn’t let herself second guess her answer as she agreed to another date the following weekend. Though she had broken her rule, she hadn’t come to regret it.

The years came and went, and Susan was a constant in Daphne’s life as she went through several jobs, none of them lasting longer than a year. Though she always found ways to support herself, it was nice to at least have stability in who she came home to at the end of the day.

Her eyes fluttered open one morning only for her to squeeze them shut against the bright light. She reached for her wand on her bedside table, nearly knocking it off before she could catch it, and flicked it in the direction of the window, making a noise of satisfaction when the room darkened.

Without lifting her head from the pillow, she scooted towards the middle of the bed until she found Susan and snuggled into her girlfriend’s side. Susan humphed in her sleep but didn’t otherwise stir.

It was a Sunday morning after all. Daphne drifted back to sleep with a smile on her lips.


End file.
